Go Tell It on the Mountain
by Tres Mechante
Summary: What is the difference between a soldier and a scholar? Daniel isn’t sure, and that has Jack worried.


**Title:** Go Tell It On The Mountain

**Author:** Très Méchante

**Characters/Pairing:** Col. Jack O'Neill, Dr. Daniel Jackson, Dr. Janet Fraiser; gen

**Summary: **What is the difference between a soldier and a scholar? Daniel isn't sure, and that has Jack worried.

**Rating:** Teen

**Spoilers:** nothing specific

**Word Count:** approx. 5,600 words

**Warning: **Angst, a few bad words, bouts of silliness

**Disclaimer:** Well, the story is mine, but the characters, most assuredly, are not.

**Archive:** Only with permission.

**Inspired by title:** "Go Tell It On The Mountain" by Simon & Garfunkel

* * *

Jack O'Neill, decorated Colonel in the USAF and defender of the human race, defiant in the presence of the most sadistic Goa'uld, slunk through the corridors of the SGC. It wasn't that he was trying to hide – not exactly – but even heroes needed a break from bureaucracy. Who knew saving the planet involved so much paperwork?

Slipping around another corner, he headed for his favorite diversion. Few things were more entertaining than a round of 'annoy the archaeologist' – especially when he took the game to said archaeologist's lair.

Hands in his pockets, Jack casually sauntered through the open door. "Daniel."

"Jack."

"Whatcha doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

Jack began looking over the artifacts strewn across the desk while he considered his answer.

Without looking up, Daniel warned, "Don't touch anything, Jack."

"Who me?" he asked, all innocence, as he reached for a weird looking dish thing.

"Put it down."

Jack put it down in favor of reaching for another object, wincing at the sharp ridges. "Seriously, what are you working on?"

Daniel sighed, took off his glasses and finally looked up. "Translations, Jack. I'm working on translations from the obelisks we found on our last mission."

"Ah. The planet of the dancing chipmunks," he said as he started juggling two ball-like objects.

"They weren't dancing and I asked you to please not touch anything," he said in an annoyed tone of voice.

Jack put down the balls and wandered to the other side of the desk, drawn by a shiny object. "Well, they looked like they were dancing – kind of a disco thing, if I'm not mistaken."

Daniel ignored him and went back to his notes.

"This would make a great fishing lure," said Jack as he eyed the shiny bit of metal. "I don't suppose the chipmunks wrote whatever was on the wall – now, that would be cool."

"Goodbye, Jack."

Jack chided his friend. "Don't be like that, Danny Boy. I just stopped by to see if you'd found anything interesting."

"I found lots of interesting things."

"Yeah? Like what?" Jack frowned when Daniel refused to answer. "C'mon, what did you find that's interesting?"

Daniel gestured to photographs taken at the site. "History, mythology, literature, rules of society."

"Huh. Yeah, interesting, I guess; if you're into that kind of thing."

Daniel sighed.

Jack began stacking some small square tiles into little towers.

Daniel suddenly stood up and began snatching at various artifacts, tossing them carelessly into a small box. "I am an archaeologist. I am an anthropologist. _And_ I am a linguist. Yes, Jack. I'm into that kind of thing."

Daniel's determined movements around the work table forced Jack to back up until he was outside the door. Jack frowned, puzzled as to how he'd gotten there and why he was holding a box of artifacts.

Jack cleared his throat. "So, uh, no signs of any, oh, advanced technology," he ventured.

"No, Jack. No big honkin' space guns," he confirmed. "Just toys for colonels with an attention deficit disorder."

Daniel slammed the door in Jack's face.

Okay. That was odd. Sure, Daniel could be a bit pissy when he was interrupted, but that was…really, really odd.

It was then that Jack noticed the piece of paper taped to the door: D. Jackson, arms broker.

Huh. And the weird just keeps coming.

Jack carefully balanced the small box with his right arm while he took down the sign. He knocked softly and opened the door.

"Daniel?"

"Jack?"

Jack entered and carefully set the box on a side table. He walked over to Daniel and set the paper down on top of the notebook. "Something you want to talk about, Daniel?"

"What could I possibly have to talk about?"

Jack wiggled the pager a bit. "Would you care to explain this?"

Daniel finally looked up. "I think that says it all, don't you?"

"You do know that answering a question with another question is just a form of avoidance, right?"

"When did you get your degree in psychology?"

"I rest my case." Jack snagged a nearby chair and dragged it over to Daniel. Sitting gingerly on the wobbly seat, he shifted in an attempt to get comfortable. He cleared his throat a few times while he tried to figure out how to approach the situation.

"Look, Jack, I'm kind of busy--"

"Look, Danny, I'm kind of confused--"

They both stopped. Another false start and Jack took control of the conversation.

"Daniel, this isn't you," he said, pointing at the mock name tag.

Daniel refused to meet his eyes. "I'm not so sure about that. I-I mean, I know what my education is, and what my calling is – or was. But right now, the only thing I seem to be discovering or exploring is new sources of weapons."

"The Goa'uld are--"

"Do _not_ tell me about the Goa'uld, Jack. Don't you dare try to tell me anything about the Goa'uld. I know what's at stake." The memory of Sha're hung between them.

"Geez, Daniel, I didn't mean – I know you know what's at stake." Jack foundered for a moment, not sure how to proceed. "You, Dr. Jackson, have accomplished a great deal. It's true, without you we wouldn't be half as successful against the Goa'uld as we are. But there's so much more. We have allies – friends – across the galaxy. And through them we have new technology, medicine, hell even a better understanding of our own history."

Daniel waved his hand dismissively. "The SGC has accomplished--"

"Not the SGC, Daniel. You."

Daniel bowed his head. "Corporal Arnal has a collection of really odd songs."

Jack frowned at the non sequitur, but opted to go with the flow. "Dare I ask how odd the songs are?"

Daniel gave a small grin that faded quickly. "He played this one song for me a few weeks ago. It's some kind of parody, I think; it's called 'Star Trekkin'."

"He probably has toy phaser, too."

Daniel shrugged slightly. "Anyway, there's this one phrase that repeats, a kind of theme, I guess." He looked up at Jack. "We come in peace, shoot to kill, shoot to kill."

Jack laughed at that.

Daniel did not. "I know it's supposed to be funny, but it just hit a little close to home, you know? We gate somewhere, claim to be friends and then have to shoot our way out."

Suddenly, Jack didn't feel much like laughing.

"Oh, Daniel. It's not like that. Well, not all the time."

"I know." Daniel huffed out a deep breath and indicated the paper Jack had dropped on his desk. "Look at me, Jack. I look like a soldier – hell, I even act like one."

Jack snorted. "Sometimes."

"Sometimes," Daniel acknowledged with a half-hearted grin. He sighed heavily. "Sometimes, I just want to stop. I want to be able to stay somewhere without guns or bombs or insane despots long enough to really study the culture, the language, the…"

"Anything that isn't connected to a war with the Goa'uld."

"Pretty much, yeah. In the morning, I have to turn over my report to another team that will be able to go study the ruins near the Abishotii village." Seeing Jack's lack of recognition, Daniel added, "The walls with paintings of topless women."

"Oh, the Abishotii, sure, I remember." Jack smirked in remembrance of some of the more interesting images. He was proud of only flinching slightly when a crumpled piece of paper hit him in the face.

"Jack," chided Daniel. He toyed with his journal. "I'll have to put this work aside, because there is nothing of strategic value, and turn over the information on the Abishotii to someone else because there might be something in their history that will be useful."

Suddenly, Daniel swept his hand across his desk, tossing everything to the floor. Daniel held up his hand, forestalling anything Jack might say. "Jack, please. I don't have much time left to go over this before it gets mothballed. Just-just give me a few more hours of peace so I can…Just go. Please."

Jack bent down and helped Daniel gather the papers strewn across the floor. "You need sleep, Daniel."

"I know. I-I promise. Just a few more hours, then I'll put it away, like I put everything away."

Jack wanted to say something but was afraid whatever he said would only make matters worse. He checked his watch and headed for the door. "Midnight, Daniel. You've got until midnight; then you turn in. Clear?"

"Clear, Jack. Sure…" Daniel's voice was distracted as he sorted through his notes, his attention clearly on something other than their conversation.

Jack left Daniel's office and gently closed the door.

He set the alarm on his watch for 0130 hours, knowing his friend would not be anywhere close to wrapping things up. He then went to see about securing quarters for the night – he wasn't leaving the mountain tonight.

----- -- -----

Paperwork done, Jack found himself wandering the SGC corridors. It was late evening, but there were still people wandering around, although mercifully no one seemed to want to talk to him, leaving him to his thoughts.

He was at a loss as to what to do about Daniel. One more lap around the complex – deliberately not going anywhere near his friend's sanctuary – did nothing to clear his mind. Just as he started to open the door to his office, he was shocked when the door was opened from within.

Jack and General Hammond stared at each other for a moment.

"Something I can do for you, Colonel? Keeping in mind that it's awfully late and I want to get home sometime before breakfast."

"Sir. I-this isn't my office, is it?"

General Hammond's voice was faintly mocking. "Not quite yet, Colonel. But maybe one day, if you behave yourself."

"Yes, Sir."

Hammond re-entered his office, motioning Jack to follow. "What's on your mind, Colonel?"

Jack opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words were spoken. He wasn't quite sure how to begin.

Hammond began to look concerned. "Colonel?"

"I think Daniel is dying – not dead dying, but--" Jack broke off when his voice cracked. "We're losing him, Sir."

Hammond closed the door and walked back to his desk, setting his coat and briefcase on top. "Sit down, Jack, and tell me what's wrong with our boy."

Jack collapsed into the nearest chair and proceeded to shock himself with the flow of words spilling from his mouth. He described his encounter with the distraught scholar, his worries about Daniel, the changes he'd seen in his friend and his own guilt in being, on occasion, less than supportive.

By the time he finally wound down, his throat was dry and he felt emotionally wrung out. Jack leaned forward, resting elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped, his head hung low and eyes closed. He was oblivious to his surroundings, simply soaking up the resulting silence.

It was the touch of something smooth, hard and cool in his hand that brought him back to the present. He opened his eyes to find a tumbler with amber liquid in his hand.

He looked over at the man in the chair beside his. This was not his commanding officer; this was his friend, George.

"Drink up, Jack. There's more if you need it," said Hammond, taking a sip of his own drink.

Jack took a sip and let the burn as it went down ground him. "Sorry about…" he gestured vaguely with his glass.

"Nothing to be sorry about, son. It sounds like you've been carrying a load for quite a while."

"Yeah."

They sat quietly for a few minutes. Hammond was the one to break the silence.

"I don't quite know what to tell you. Civilians have always been a tricky proposition. As military, we understand the risks and sacrifices that go hand in hand with what we do."

"See, he knows the risks and sacrifices. Jeez, he lost his wife and the people who became his family." Jack frowned as he thought back a few years. "Even before we really knew what was out there, he'd lost his credibility and academic standing just by voicing his theories."

"Doctor Jackson has coped remarkably well with things that would have broken a lesser man."

Jack and Hammond silently toasted their friend.

"I'm scared, George. He's disappearing. All the things that make Daniel, Daniel are being stripped away." Jack tossed back the last of his drink. "Who will he be when he isn't Daniel, anymore?"

Hammond leaned back in his chair as he considered his words. "This has changed all of us, Jack. None of us are really the same – the star gate, the Goa'uld and Tok'ra, hell, even Teal'c have all forced us to rethink our views, our beliefs and commitments. But our dedication has not wavered in the face of all these things, and that makes me damn proud of our military."

"But, see, that's the thing. Daniel's not military. Even if he's wearing the clothes and carrying a weapon, he's not--" Jack tried again. "He had a sign on his door earlier. It said D. Jackson, arms broker. Not linguist, or anthropologist, or archaeologist. He's losing sight of himself."

Hammond bowed his head for a moment. "I'm not really sure what to suggest. We are at war, even if most of the Earth doesn't know about it."

"Yeah." Jack rolled the empty glass between his hands. "Every time he has to cut short an exploration or cultural thing, he seems to lose a little more of himself. And before you say it, I know SG1 is not a research unit. I just wish there was a way to give Daniel back a little bit of what makes him who he is. Am I making any sense?"

"You're coming through loud and clear." Hammond heaved himself up from the chair and set his glass on the side table. "Let me think about it, Colonel. I can't make any promises, but I'll try to work something out."

Jack stood, acknowledging that his commanding officer was dismissing him.

"Oh, and Jack, you might want to see about staying on base tonight, given the situation. Just a thought."

"Already taken care of, General." Jack opened the door. "Walk you out, Sir?"

----- -- -----

Jack was already – or maybe, still – awake when his watch signaled 0130. He was so tired, he'd just fallen onto the bed fully clothed. He heaved himself up from the bed and headed for the door, not bothering with the lights. It only took him 23 minutes, two side trips and a phone call to prepare for Operation 'Pry Daniel Out Of His Office'.

The door was ajar when he arrived.

He knocked lightly and pushed open the door without waiting for an answer.

Daniel stood in the far corner, arms wrapped around himself, staring in a manner that could only be called forlorn. Jack turned his head to follow Daniel's gaze. Ah. The coffee pot was empty. This could work to his advantage.

"Bedtime, Danny."

Daniel slowly focused on Jack. "S-sorry, what?"

"It is now just past 0200." Jack tapped his watch for emphasis. "You were supposed to call it a night at midnight."

Daniel frowned. "It's not midnight in Hawaii."

"Which would be fine if we were in Hawaii, which we're not," replied Jack, reasonably.

"Oh. But--"

"Ah! Do not pull the 'but Jack we never agreed on a time zone' argument because then I'll be forced to say I meant Greenwich Mean Time and you would have had to stop when I first came to your office. Right?"

Watching a sleep and caffeine deprived genius try to sort through that was kind of fun.

"Um...okay?"

Jack held up his hand, showing off the thermos he carried. "If you shut everything down, I'll let you have some."

Daniel's gaze suddenly sharpened. "Coffee?"

"Coffee." Jack waved his other hand to indicate the clutter. "But only if you wrap it up in the next 10 minutes."

Daniel was done in nine.

Jack pulled back the thermos just as Daniel reached for it. "Sorry, this comes with strings attached."

"B-b-but--"

Jack held firm against the pout. "Fresh air, Daniel. You haven't set foot outside the mountain in almost 72 hours. And before you try to deny it, I checked the logs."

Daniel dropped his gaze.

Jack moved in for the kill. "And I'm willing to bet my entire 'Simpsons' collection that you haven't had so much as eight hours of sleep in that time."

Daniel fidgeted at bit but refrained from comment. Jack took that as confirmation.

"C'mon, Daniel. A short walk outside, a cup of hot coffee and then sleep." Jack turned and left the office. He didn't bother checking if Daniel was following, knowing the lure of coffee would overcome any reluctance.

Jack couldn't quite keep the smirk from his face as he glanced at Daniel, who had his gaze fixed firmly on the thermos.

It only took a few minutes to pass through the final checkpoint. Jack accepted the jackets and flashlights which he'd had brought up earlier, and then he and Daniel were out in the brisk night air. Without a word, Jack led Daniel along a well-worn path up the mountainside.

Half an hour later, they came to a clearing and Jack gestured to a fallen log. The full moon meant they could turn off the flashlights as they settled down with the coffee.

They didn't talk much as they sat side by side. Actually, they didn't talk at all until long after the coffee was gone. Jack had turned down Daniel's grudging offer to share the coffee, much to Daniel's relief.

Daniel stretched his arms over his head. "You know, that coffee tasted strange," he said.

Jack glanced at him. "Strange bad or strange different? Because you weren't complaining."

Daniel shrugged. "Just strange."

Jack shrugged back. "It probably wasn't the kind of coffee you normally drink," he offered.

"Probably," murmured Daniel around a huge yawn. "God, I'm tired."

"Fresh air will do that to you," commented Jack.

"Not to mention a forced march in said fresh air," returned Daniel.

"Believe me, Danny, that was not even close to being a forced march."

Daniel yawned again. "Could've fooled me."

"And that would be because you are too tired to know which way is up."

Daniel shrugged, but did not comment.

Jack grinned. "What say we head back? It's getting a little chilly out here."

They wandered back to the entrance at a much slower pace since Jack had to keep Daniel from veering off the path and into bushes and boulders.

It didn't take them long to check back into the base. Jack guided Daniel to the elevator and, once safely inside, he nodded to the guard as the doors closed.

Daniel leaned against the elevator wall, held upright by the hand planted on his chest. Jack shook his head. He wished he could convince his friend to find some sort of middle ground rather than this constant swing between busy and crashing.

Maneuvering Daniel between elevators at the transfer floor took a little effort, but fortunately – or maybe unfortunately – Jack had had a lot of practice maneuvering wounded comrades, so this wasn't exactly unfamiliar ground.

When the elevator door opened on their floor, he began tugging Daniel out.

"Let me help, Colonel."

Jack nodded to the petite woman who supported Daniel's other side. "Hey, Doc. Nice of you to drop by."

Daniel focused on the woman beside him and positively beamed. "Janet, hi."

"Hi, Daniel. How are you feeling?"

Daniel mumbled something totally incomprehensible.

Jack opened the door to Daniel's quarters, and propelled the younger man forward until Daniel bumped against the bed and toppled over face first onto the mattress.

A muffled voice called out plaintively, "Jack? Jack? I fell down."

Jack reached down to pull Daniel up so he was sitting on the bed. Daniel's hair was ruffled and his glasses were askew. He blinked up at Jack with unfocused eyes.

Loopy Daniel often reminded him of a little kid, in this case, a little kid up way past his bedtime.

Jack shared an amused smile with Janet, and began peeling Daniel out of his jacket. When that was done, Jack plucked the glasses from Daniel's face and placed them on the side table.

Daniel remained docile and compliant up until Jack began to pull Daniel's shirt up over his head. "Hey! Fk'ff!" he grumbled as shirt was pulled off. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to get you into bed," answered Jack, beginning to lose patience.

Daniel groaned and flopped back against the mattress. "Not now, Jack. I'm too tired."

Jack froze. What the hell was he talking about? He couldn't mean – no way was he implying...he didn't mean…

A gasp from the other side of the bed made Jack's head jerked upward. He had forgotten about Janet. This was not good. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out. He didn't know what to say. She couldn't ask, and he couldn't tell – even if there wasn't anything to tell.

A giggle broke the tense silence. Jack and Janet looked down. Blue shone from barely opened eyes as the man sprawled across the bed snickered.

He'd just been played. The little shit.

"You little shit," muttered Jack.

Daniel sighed and his body went lax, head lolling to the side.

Janet moved around the bed, gesturing for Jack to follow.

A flurry of frantic whispers ensued, with Janet firing the first volley.

"What exactly is going on, Colonel. Daniel is acting... it's like he's...he's..."

"Drunk? Snockered? High? Looped?"

"In a word, yes."

"Well don't look at me!"

"How much did you give him?"

"Two. You told me two – you gave me two!"

"I've never seen him like this with just a sedative."

"You gave him the usual stuff, right?"

"Well, no. He always complained about waking up feeling like he'd been on a three-day drunk."

"Pfft. Like he'd know what that felt like."

"I prescribed a different drug; it's something new that shouldn't have the same side effects."

A giggly sigh came from the bed.

"Huh. Well, that's definitely new. He's gonna hate himself in the morning."

"Frankly, I'm surprised you convinced him to take anything at all."

"Ah. Well. About that..."

"Colonel?"

"I knew he wouldn't take them – and he really needs the sleep – so I kind of slipped him a mickey."

Janet began raising her voice. "You gave him alcohol? On top of the meds? Are you nuts?"

"No, I did not give him alcohol! Give me some credit, here, Doc!"

"Then what exactly did you give him to drink?"

"Coffee. Really, really bad coffee," was the plaintive response from the bed. "Jack, why did you give me bad coffee? Don't you like me anymore?"

With a pair of 'this isn't finished yet' glares, Jack and Janet returned to the bed.

"I like you fine, Danny," said Jack as he took off Daniel's boots.

Janet took the hint and began to shuck Daniel from his BDUs.

Jack watched in amazement as she deftly undid the belt, zipper and began to peel the pants down those long legs – all with a minimum of difficulty.

"You're pretty good at that, Doc," praised Jack.

Daniel hummed contentedly and stretched as the pants left his body. "Lotsa practice..."

It was Janet's turn to freeze. Jack looked between the blushing doctor and the nearly comatose man on the bed. Was he implying...? Jack decided he would not ask because he wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

Janet opened and closed her mouth a few times, but no words came out.

Jack knew how she felt. "I'm not asking and I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell," he said.

"Right."

Jack snatched the blanket from the foot of the bed and draped it over his friend.

Janet whispered, "Night, Daniel."

Jack watched in fond amusement as Daniel pulled the pillow down to cuddle with it. "That's right, just snuggle in."

They almost missed Daniel's mumbled reply. "Mm-hm...snuggle Gen'l George."

Jack and Janet looked at each other, then at the sleeping man, then back at each other. Without a word, they left the room, flipping off the light and closing the door.

They stood in the corridor for a moment, neither quite sure what to say or where to look. Janet gestured vaguely behind her. "I'll just, uh...I really should get back."

Jack nodded. "Right. Me, too, uh, this way," he said, pointing in a different direction.

They began walking in opposite directions, then stopped and turned around.

Jack pointed to Daniel's door. "About what he said..."

"Did he say something?" asked Janet, all innocence.

"No. No, he - I didn't hear anything."

They quickly moved down the corridor, Janet back to the infirmary and Jack back to his quarters. Jack really hoped he could just put the last few minutes down to having a very strange dream.

----- -- -----

Jack's breakfast was not sitting well. His midmorning Fruit Loops had gone soggy when Dr. Fraser cornered him and gave a rather detailed report about exactly how pissed off Daniel Jackson was. Fortunately, no one had been sitting close enough to hear them. It seems Daniel did not take kindly to their version of tough love – even if he did agree he'd been too far gone to realize just how exhausted he really was.

"Sir! Colonel O'Neill! Sir!"

Jack stopped and turned toward the airman running after him. He really should have skipped breakfast and gone straight to his office; no one ever looked for him there.

"Are you chasing me for a reason, or are you just getting some exercise?" inquired Jack as he returned the man's salute.

"Message from General Hammond, sir" replied the airman, handing Jack a manila envelope.

"You could have left this in my office, you know."

"Sir, you are never in your office, and the General insisted that you see this right away."

"Thank you, uh, Decker." Jack nodded to the airman and tucked the envelope under his arm as he turned away.

Airman Decker immediately moved in front of Jack, cutting off his retreat.

Jack glared. "Was there anything else, Airman?"

"Sir, the general said to make sure you read this right away."

"Which I will do as soon as I get back to my office." Jack's attempt to move around his human obstacle was thwarted once more as the aforementioned obstacle moved back into his path.

"Respectfully, Sir, I am to wait until you have actually read the document."

Jack glared some more. "You do realize I outrank you, right?"

"And General Hammond outranks you. Sir," Decker quickly added.

Huh. The kid had a point. With a sigh and yet another glare, Jack tore open the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper.

He began by reading the attached sticky-note.

_This memo will be officially released later today, but I wanted to give you the heads up. It was the best I could come up with on short notice. And Jack, stop glaring at the airman. He's just doing his job. ~ G_

Jack tore off the note and began scanning through the memo, which seemed to outline some sort of scheme to shuffle people around due something or other. He didn't read all the details, just skipped down to the assignments. Jack began to grin.

Sam was going to Area 51 to oversee the startup of the reverse-engineering project on that doohickey they'd brought back from 221. She was going to love that.

Hey, cool! Teal'c was going to beat-up the new marines. Okay, he was going to train them in Jaffa tactics, but it always ended with lots of bruised marines. Teal'c denied enjoying this, but Jack noticed that he never turned down the opportunity, either.

Jack grinned when he got to Daniel's name. Daniel was being assigned to one of the research teams off world. He was going to spend three weeks on a dig. This might be enough to get him off Daniel's shit list. Maybe. He hoped.

Jack looked for his own name on the list, wondering what he'd be doing while everyone else got to play. "Oh, fer cryin' out loud!" He waved the paper at the startled airman. "Let this be a lesson to you; no good deed ever goes unpunished. Ever! You got that?"

"Got it; goods deeds are punished. Will that be all, Colonel?"

Jack waved Decker off and stalked down the corridor. Try to do something nice and look what happens. He continued muttering to himself as he walked. Jack was so lost in his own world of unhappiness that he barreled into someone when he rounded a corner.

"Oh, sorry, I – oh, hey Daniel."

"Colonel."

Jack winced. Daniel referring to him by rank was never a good sign. "Uh, how are you feeling?"

"Like I've recently been drugged, oddly enough." Daniel stepped away from Jack and began move around him, obviously intent on leaving.

"Daniel, wait up." Jack made a grab for Daniel's arm, growling slightly when his friend pulled away and kept walking. "Damn it, Daniel, would you just wait a minute!"

A passing security patrol paused at the ruckus, but a hard glare from Jack encouraged them to keep walking.

"Look, Daniel, I...ah, geez, Daniel, I know it was a rotten thing to do, but I was worried about you. Hell, we've all been worried about you."

Daniel refused to meet his eyes. "That was a low thing to do. You have no idea how upset I was when I finally woke up."

Jack grimaced as he vividly recalled his conversation with Janet. "Uh, yeah, I think I've got an idea. Dr. Fraser cornered me over breakfast and told me about your conversation." He sighed. "I'm sorry about the sneak attack, but I'm not sorry you got some rest."

"My early meeting had to be rescheduled because I wasn't awake in time to be there," said Daniel.

"Well, you look better than yesterday," offered Jack.

Daniel scoffed at that. "I'm still angry about what the two of you did," he said. "You, especially."

"Me? What? Why?"

"I thought we were friends, Jack. Friends don't pull stunts like that."

"We are friends! I'll admit it was underhanded, but, Daniel, we do care." Jack took a step closer to his friend. "Hey, c'mon. If we'd thought you'd listen to reason – you know what I mean, so don't give me that look."

"Damn it, Jack – you gave me decaf!"

They stood in silence. For a moment it seemed that even the normally busy corridor was absent of sound.

"Ah. That."

Daniel looked as if he wanted to say something more, but just bit his lip and looked away.

"I, uh, I kind of figured you wouldn't notice."

Daniel's glare clearly stated his opinion of Jack's intellect.

"Okay, maybe it was a dirty trick, but I stand by my actions." Jack cleared his throat. "Daniel? We okay? I mean, we will be, right?"

Daniel gave a small shrug and studied the floor for a few moments before peek up at Jack through his eyelashes. "Yeah. At least, we will be. I'm still really...unhappy. Just give me a little time."

Jack started to relax for the first time since Daniel's mini-meltdown the night before.

"Okay. I can do that." He smiled at Daniel. "Oh! Hey, I almost forgot." Jack smoothed out the crumpled paper in his hand and gave it to Daniel.

"What's this?"

Jack just waved vaguely at the paper. "It won't be official until later, but – down near the bottom – just read it."

Jack almost bounced in impatience as he waited, but Daniel's excitement made it worthwhile.

Daniel looked up, eyes bright and a huge grin on his face. "Seriously?"

Jack just shrugged back. "The General doesn't kid around when it comes to this stuff."

"But that's – hey, Sam's finally going to get that project started. And Teal'c is –" Daniel frowned. "You had something to do with this, didn't you?"

"Not me. This is all the General's idea." Jack was oddly reluctant to relay the conversation he'd had with General Hammond. "Believe me, I was just as surprised as you when I got the memo."

"This is...wow."

"Yeah, everyone gets to kick back and play for a few weeks," said Jack, still basking in Daniel's happiness.

"So, what are you going to be doing?" Daniel suddenly burst out laughing as he continued reading the memo. "Oh, Jack, what did you do to deserve this?"

Jack reacted a bit defensively. "What? Everyone gets to do what they want to do."

Daniel looked skeptical. "You're going to stand there and tell me you actually _want_ to work on the report to the Appropriations Committee?"

Jack tried his best to look enthusiastic, but didn't quite pull it off. He eventually just shrugged. "Well, it's not like I haven't helped out on the reports before."

Tapping the paper against his lips, Daniel studied his friend. "Don't ever slip me decaf again and we'll call it even," he said, handing the memo back to Jack.

"Sweet!"

They parted ways, but as Jack decided to hit the commissary for a celebratory slice of pie, he heard a voice calling his name.

"Colonel! Colonel O'Neill, sir!"

The airman who'd given him the memo was chasing after him. "Sir, General Hammond wants to see you before he leaves on vacation."

"Vacation? What vacation?" yelped Jack.

Daniel's laughter echoed down the corridor.

"Crap."

_**-end-**_


End file.
